Crying for Dad

There was a time in his life when #6 paid no attention to whether or not his father was in the room.  He was focused only on his own physical needs and they all came from me.  Dad was a guy who held him and helped him out, but life was all about mom.  Then he stopped nursing, his focus turned outward, and he discovered the wonder of Dad.

My sweet husband now has to sneak out of the house in the morning when he leaves for work.  At 18 months, our boy loves his father with the whole of his being and begins to tear up as soon as the Computer Guy sits down with his socks and shoes.  His lip quivers when his dad picks up his laptop, and he begins to wail when the front door opens.  He misses his dad even before he leaves the house.

#6 spends the day playing, napping, and looking for his father.  The sound of the front door opening brings forth squeals of delight because it might be Dad.

Most days, I smile at the love my son has for his father.  His pain is a good sign that they are well and truly bonded.  It is a indication of the love his father has for him.

I feel his pain.  It was been weeks since I have been able to go to Mass.  I’ve been sick or one or more of the children have been sick since the 2nd week of Advent.  They don’t get sick early enough on Saturday to allow me to head over to the Vigil Mass, and the rest of the family returns home too late for me to make it to Mass alone.  It has been weeks since I have sat in church, and I miss my Father.

This weekend, it looked as if  I would be able to go with my family, but a late night emergency room visit with our 6 year old knocked the hope of Mass right out of me.  While I worried for her (and she’s better now), I thought wearily of the fact that I would miss Mass again.  It’s the Feast of the Baptism and I haven’t been in a church since the second week of Advent.  Even my attempts at daily Mass have been interrupted by suddenly vomiting or feverish children.

For a reason known only to Him, God seems to have decided that this moment of my life is to be spent in service to my family and aching for Him. Thanks to my son, I recognize the ache for what it really is.  It is a sign of my love for Him, a reminder that we are truly bonded and the merest indication of His love for me.